Broken, Perfect, You
by pensversusswords
Summary: University AU where Steve meets Tony, the reclusive genius who wears a mask of arrogance and confidence. Underneath is a more complex and intriguing young man that Steve finds himself wanting to know and understand. Stony (Steve Rogers x Tony Stark) romance. Slash.


**A/N:** Thanks for checking this out, it's going to be written from both Tony and Steve's point of view, and it won't be updated too often, my main focus being on other stories ATM, but I won't abandon it, promise. I've been itching to write a Stony fic for some time now so I thought I'd give it a shot. University AU. Enjoy.

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First days were always rough. You were all alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces, fumbling around through throngs of young people, all scrambling for classes that you had no idea how to get to. Steve knew this, and yet here he stood, at the entrance of his new school, feeling a ball of anxiety clench itself in his stomach.

There was absolutely no way that today was going to go well.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and adjusted the strap of his bag across his shoulders, and slowly made the climb up the mountain of stairs that lead up to the gaping mouth that was the doorway. The stairs were littered with the usual university-esque images; students lazily lounging on the steps, some of them with cigarettes hanging from their lips, blowing out puffs of smoke into the morning air with distaste on their faces. Some people looked at him, faint curiosity in their eyes, and others hardly glanced at him, indifferent to the kid who was blundering awkwardly up the steps. He avoided their eyes, keeping his focus on getting up the stairs in one piece.

He made it, eyes still cast down, hands shoved deep into his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward. He had memorized the entirety of his schedule before he had rushed out the door that morning, and now it was running through his mind as his eyes considered the numbers that were scrawled in worn writing on plaques on the doors.

_English. Room 34. Second floor. 8:00 am. _

He repeated it in his head like a mantra, the words turning over in his head as he scoured the halls for the room.

Finally, he found it, tucked in between the plethora of rushing bodies and greyish walls. The wall next to the door he needed to get to was accessorized with couple sloppily making out, sickening sounds of flesh on flesh filling the air as he grimaced and pushed around them, trying his hardest to avoid bumping into them. It was in vain, he discovered quickly, as he was hip checked by a bustling body from behind, sending him flying into the couple that were locked together in their embrace.

They broke apart at impact, and the guy glared at him, eyes flashing, as Steve stumbled backwards, righting himself. "Watch it, idiot," he snapped harshly, and Steve felt the blush creep up his cheeks as he stuttered out an apology. The girl hadn't even turned to acknowledge him, opting for the guy's neck when his lips left hers, and the disgruntled guy waved a hand impatiently at Steve, gesturing for him to go away. Steve obliged, and slunk towards the door, his face still burning with embarrassment.

_Well, there's the first humiliation of the day._

He glanced down at his watch as he strode into the room, swinging the door open. He was early – really early he realized as he walked into a completely empty classroom. A lone clock ticked on the wall, a tired old projector sat at the front of the room next to a wooden podium, and rows and rows of desks stood completely unoccupied.

Except for one, way at the back, that held a dark haired figure who was slumped over his desk, face buried in the folds of a gray sweater. His bag, an expensive looking rucksack, leaned against the leg of his chair, along with a leather jacket that looked like it had been thrown there carelessly.

Looking around nervously, and seeing that it was definite that no one else was there, he sighed heavily and decided to muster up his courage and go talk to him. Even if it backfired, he needed to at least attempt to make a friend today.

He shuffled across the linoleum floor, his worn sneakers squeaking uncomfortably against the tiles. His heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chest as he approached the slouched figure, pausing beside his desk to collect his thoughts and try to figure out how he would greet him.

He clearly waited for too long, though, because the other person was the first one to speak.

"You going to say anything, hotshot?" a gruff voice teased from below him.

Steve immediately felt his face heat again. "Uh… sorry, I just wanted to say hi."

The guy sat up then, in one fluid movement, shoving one hand through his dark hair as he sat back in his chair. Warm brown eyes peered up at him, and a playful smirk played around his lips from the midst of the close cut goatee that coated his chin.

Steve found himself thinking that it suited him quite nicely.

He was looking at him now with one eyebrow raised comically, his arms settling to cross over his chest. The expression on his face seemed to be saying, "_Well?"_

Steve cleared his throat quietly before speaking again, focusing on his voice not escaping him in a jumble of incoherent words. "So, um, hi. Mind if I sit here?"

He gestured to the seat on his left; that smirk was still firmly in place. "No one's stopping you."

Steve took that as a yes, and with a polite grin he slid into the rather uncomfortable seat. "I'm Steve, by the way."

"Steve?" he repeated, his voice lilting in a kind of skeptical, sarcastic question and his eyes narrowing slightly. "You don't look like a Steve."

Steve frowned slightly, cocking his head slightly to one side as he looked over at him. "I don't look like a Steve?" he demanded incredulously.

"Nope," he stated firmly. "You do not."

"How does one…_ look_ like their name? It's just something people call you."

He shrugged, shoulders that were covered by the gray material of his sweater rising towards his ears, "It's just a vibe buddy, and I'm not getting the Steve vibe from you."

"Oh? So what name would you give me instead?"

He frowned at this, his face thoughtful as he assessed the friendly, broad shouldered blonde that sat next to him, with his probing eyes. Steve shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Eventually he shrugged nonchalantly, a dismissive expression closing over his face. "Not sure, I'll have to get back to you on that one."

"Right," Steve responded simply, still confused by the interaction as he settled back in his seat to stare at the front of the room. He wondered what exactly the kind of vibe this guy was getting from him. He knew that he wasn't necessarily the best at first impressions, always coming across as shy and overly polite which put some people off, but no one had looked at him with such doubt when he introduced himself. He couldn't tell if it was a bad thing.

By this time students were beginning to filter into the classroom, chatting amiably amongst themselves as they arranged themselves in seats around the room. The chatter grew louder and louder with each person that entered the room, and Steve's eyes sifted through the student's faces, not surprised that he didn't know a single one of them.

He realized something then, and turned back to the guy beside him, who was scribbling away in a notebook, brows furrowed in concentration, lips moving slightly as he talked to himself.

"I um, didn't get your name."

Steve's voice snapped him out of whatever he was doing, and he looked up with a self-assured grin. "That's 'cause I didn't give it to you." He reached his arm across the space between their desks, and extended his hand in Steve's direction. "I'm Tony. Tony Stark."

Steve grasped his warm hand in a firm handshake, a smile creasing on his lips.

_Maybe I actually made a friend already._

"It's great to meet you, Tony Stark."


End file.
